Different
by skittlesgirl99
Summary: I'm just different, they're like peas from the same pod. No wonder they make fun of me, life's harder when you're odd. Different isn't naughty, different is no threat. Written for the Starvation monthly one-shot: Inescapable.


Executions are overrated, really.

Inciting a rebellion is, of course, against the law no matter how one puts it, and, considering I broke that law, execution is the punishment.

My execution is to take place in the Capitol. It will be televised, much like that of a convicted serial killer in the olden days when things were fair. However, nowadays we call serial killers victors.

I might have fainted when I heard my sentence. A death penalty is not what one wants to hear coming from the jury when one is convicted. At least, I assume I fainted. It seems logical. One moment I was in the bright, shining, Capitol courthouse, sunlight shining through the crystal roof. It was dazzling, really. Being stuck in the lowly District Ten isn't very glamorous. The next moment I couldn't feel a thing, and memories were playing by like a video.

I could see tiny, pudgy hands reaching out to touch my Mama. She smiled down at me, relieved her daughter had made it through childbirth. Not many children do. _Mama, weren't you happy?_

I could see another pair of baby hands, only they were reaching out to touch me. There were now two children in our family. How lucky we were! My little brother was the best little boy a parent could have asked for. He was polite, funny, strong, courageous, brave, kind, thoughtful, smart, sweet, intelligent, lovely, handsome, cute, adorable, and nice to everyone. _Mama, isn't he perfect?_

I could hear Mama telling me I wasn't like other children. We thought differently. We looked differently. We acted differently? _Mama, why was I so different?_

I could see Papa leaving us. He said he would come back. He never did. He didn't even return to the District. We never heard from Papa again. He didn't die. He just left_. Mama, doesn't Papa love me anymore?_

I could hear Mama coughing. She told us not to worry about her, that it was nothing. The doctor wouldn't talk to me. I wouldn't understand. I was too different to grasp the concept. He told my little brother otherwise. My little brother couldn't handle it. He started crying. He was only eight. The doctor should've told _me_. I'm not too different to handle Mama's death. He was too young. _Mama, why does everyone hate me?_

I could hear church music. Everyone was dressed in black and they were giving my little brother. I was too different to understand sadness. But I missed Mama. I wanted her back, too. My little brother was only nine. I knew Mama sixteen years. Shouldn't I miss her more? Shouldn't Mama be telling them I'm just the same as they are? _Mama, where have you gone?_

I could see my little brother waiting as they called out his name. He walks up to the stage. I had wondered where he was going, what he had won. He didn't win anything. He was sad. Why would anyone want to make my little brother sad? He was too perfect to be sad. Maybe I am too different to understand this. I hate being different. _Mama, what are they going to do to him?_

I could hear my little brother's screams as I rocked back and forth. I didn't want this to happen. These things are attacking my little brother. These fiends from other districts keep stabbing him. They won't stop. It's unbearable. He just wanted to take that bag of food. He needs food to live. Now he's not breathing! _Mama, why would someone do this?_

I could feel absolute rage and hate bubbling up inside of me. I could see Peacekeepers. They supported the Capitol. The Capitol was laughing at my little brother, mocking him. They need to leave him alone. I lunged for the nearest smirking Peacekeeper and clasped my hands around his throat. I couldn't kill him. There were too many. I was dragged off and sent to a train. _What's going to happen now, Mama?_

I pushed out in the bright sunlight before I can even wake. It's a square in the Capitol. There are so many glaring citizens. Perhaps I am entertainment. That idea doesn't fit my fancy. I don't want to be mocked like my little brother. I need to leave. I tug at my wrists. They're chained. There's no escape.

I hardly have time to think about anything. I'm being pushed onto a stand. Yes, I've heard everything about the rebellion inciting. Yes, I admit to doing. Don't you people understand me? Does no one care why I did it? Does no one think the girl who is a bit different has feelings as well? My Mama and my little brother understood. They weren't smarter than anyone else. Is there no soul kind enough to hear me out?

Oh, well, Mama, I'll be with you soon. I'll be with my little brother, too. You two are nicer than anyone else has been to me.

At least my captors are giving me a pretty necklace…

"My little Caprice," murmured a man standing just above the dirt. "I shouldn't have named you that. You poor thing. I should have been there for you. You were no freak. You were just different."

**Just so everyone knows, caprice means 'freak' in French. I hope everyone liked it, even though it was a little bit dark.**


End file.
